This place was like the stage of some elaborate theatrical production, a cheap mockery of everything her tribe had stood for. But then, that was all Neclord really was. The tiny kingdom, the parade of brides he attempted to make immortal, they both made a twisted kind of sense. He was playing a part, trying to emulate the very thing he had destroyed and miserably failing. She had seen the girls on previous hunts, pretty little brainless things that were doomed to life as mindless zombies instead of becomingthe vampiric mistresses he desired. Sierra couldn't blame him for that, as it was what she had more successfully done in his position. The Lady had taken a string of uniformly handsome and intelligent young men to her bed, giving them the moon's blessing, and watching them grow inexocrably older as the centuries passed. They were replaced after a century or so, once the Lady couldn't stand to see them begin to age. There had been a certain comfort in knowing that the strangely interchangeable lovers were there to ease her loneliness. They had been glad to entertain her whims in exchange for a place in the coven once she was through with them. Except, of course, for one. Renilliard Variev had not wanted to be disposed of. But what could this...

Suddenly, the air was filled once more with that comfortable electric feeling. She must have lost track of time as she wandered through the deserted hallways. It wouldn't be long now.

The Gala of the Sun which was held in the palatial sandstone manor each year was the most anticipated event on the social calendar for anybody who was anybody in the Durnan Empire. What had once been a solemn ritual of thankfulness had been commercialized by the opportunistic House of the Sun in the past few decades. Technically, those of said bloodline were sacred guardians of the corrupting Moon Rune who were sworn never to use it's power. The common sense of even the the heirs to the house dictated that that was obviously nothing but a self aggrandizing myth. In truth, the House of the Sun was the second most powerful family in the empire and they were revered for a fortune in gold that rivaled the Imperial Treasury itself, not because of any mystic origins. Thus, the Duchess had the means and the inclination to hold a party on that evening to surpass all others.

Yet although the airy pastels of the gilded ballroom and an endless river of white wine would indicate otherwise, most of those at Sun Duchess Lysette's Gala were perfectly aware that this was no celebration. The more skilled politicians in the crowd could see the truth of poisoned smiles and the meaning behind an invitation to dance. This grandball was about more than fancy dresses and heavily scrutinized manners. It was herethat alliances between noble families which would shape the Durnan Empire for years to comewould be forged. Each of the elaborately dressed young aristocrats here had a mission; to find and secure the friendships and matches their parents deemed desirable at any cost.

Sadly, the girl was much too naive to realize this. Despite the training of the formidable Mistress Yashka, Sierra Muiret had an incurable belief in the intrinsic civility and goodness of polite society. In other words, she was an incurable optimist. It was that attitude which had lead her unwittingly to a very precarious position; enfolded in the embrace of Baron Sergei Maddox.

It wasn't that the Baron was a bad catch. In fact, the man was decidedly one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire room between good looks, flawless breeding, and a father who advised the Tsar himself. Sierra couldn't help be more than a little flattered that he had singled her out for the honor of a waltz. Everything Mother had told her had been true... she was going to be so happy when Sierra told her what had happened! The whole thing was like a fairy tale, with the handsome young nobleman devoting his undivided attention only to her for the entire evening. The Baron was tall and well built, her flesh and blood Prince Charming. Mother expected much of her, but she just knew that is she achieved the perfection her parents wished of her then Mother would be able to love her. This moment frozen in time, trapped within the whirlwind of colour that was the dance, had to be the happiest of her entire life.

Absorbed in her own excitement, Sierra failed to make one crucial observation. The other young women, who had carefully researched their potential dance partners, were repelled from the Baron by some unseen force. The girl was a lamb among the wolves. She couldn't possibly have known that Sun Duchess Lysette herself had made it clear that the Baron Maddox belonged to her.

On the marble dais above the crowd of dancers, a woman clad in a gown of flowing woven gold observed her rival with a critical eye. The girl was a patch of insolent white among the raven haired throng. It was no wonder that she was currently being whirled about in Sergei's arms; the Baron had a taste for the unusual. As the Sun Duchess wafted the perfumed air away with an elaborate ivory fan - her nose was, of course, highly delicate - she devised a plan of action. The hereditary moniker of Sun Duchess did not fit the woman well. She was used to the elaborate politics of the court and the resolution she was about to make was more out of cold necessity than burning passion.

The girl would have to be got out of the way. She couldn't afford to let her peers see any weakness, and to lose her iron grip on the Baron would be an extremely damaging blow to her reputation. Sergei wouldn't care anyway. The stupid child's family had abysmal connections and they both knew it. He was just toying with her, hoping for an easy lay and the chance to embarrass his unofficial fiancee. The lay he could have: he spent enough nights with the chambermaids as it was. This, however, was a public occasion and something had to be done about his visible insubordination.

"Sander, Taslovich, to me," the radiant woman beckoned to her guards with a practiced grace.

"What of the pale girl?"

" Merchant's sheltered brat. Mother is a faded minor noble who thinks she can play the game. Idiot woman. Neither knows what they're doing," one of the two wiry men promptly stated. They were paid well to know these sorts of minor details

"Repercussions?"

"Few. The father's wealthy but has few friends in the Tsar's Council."

Pointing to her target, she gave an order in a voice that was quite used to command.

" Humiliate her. I never want to see that one admitted to society again."

Emmett was having a very bad day.

"M-mister Tsen, sir, I-I can explain..."

"There is nothing to explain, Mr.Chalmers. We simply feel that it would be prudent to take our business elsewhere," the well dressed merchant smoothly stated.

" Sir.. w-wait!" the skinny young man squealed as his client was about to exit the shop.

" There was this woman, sir. I think she was a vampire, and she.."

"Mr.Chalmers, I suggest that you keep these ridiculous excuses to yourself. We had heard of your unprofessional conduct in the matter of the Ohtori order, but had thought that these desperate lies were nothing but a malicious rumor. You are obviously no longer the type of person I wish to deal with. Good day!" the man replied, firmly shutting the door after him. The sound of the entry closing hit Emmett like a gunshot; one more customer was gone. This was not good. Really, really not good. Ever since that incident four days ago he might as well have been running a swimwear boutique in midwinter.

Now was seeming more and more like a good time to panic. The rent was due soon and his professional reputation was shot after only a year out of apprenticeship. Blaming his lateness on a vampire hadn't exactly helped his credibility either. What had he been thinking when he told the Ohtoris that? Even the throngs of schoolgirls who plagued the shop for some indecipherable reason to have the same uniforms made over and over with minute differences seemed to have disappeared.

Leaning over the oaken table, head bowed, Emmett felt like he was almost going to cry. It was all the fault of that freakish woman... she had made him two days late with the order, failed to pay for a very expensive outfit, and had even killed Fluffy! Mom had been so disappointed when she heard about that. It was, however, a more harmless kind of disappointment than Dad's would be when he learned that three very expensive years studying tailoring in Greenhill would come to nothing. His father had always wanted him to be a soldier. Was it his fault that his only talent was for hems and necklines? Dad was going to kill him, and visions of lectures on the merits and manliness of joining the army danced in Emmett's head.

Looking up with the great big puppy dog eyes he made so well, Emmett was overcome with self-pity until his wandering mind came upon a fanciful notion. It was an idea that brought a smile to the face of the blonde young man. Emerald eyes shining with newfound purpose, he clutched a nearby pair of scissors and leapt up from his seat. Emmett then began to dance around the room while making vague stabbing motions with the tool of his trade, imitating the sword fights he had seen at the community theater.

He was a grown man, wasn't he?! If he could take care of himself a city-state away from his parents he could go after that wicked woman! Dad would be so proud of him, hopefully enough to pay off the last of the rent, if he thought his son was going into monster extermination. He could even keep on making clothes on the side. Emmett didn't know if he could actually kill anyone - evil monster from beyond the grave or not - but he could at least make her pay him back and teach her a lesson! Besides, she hadn't really been all that scary....

He had just been kind of tired, yeah, that was it, tired.

Emmett dashed upstairs grinning like a schoolboy and grabbed his worn leather backpack. Wildly, he began throwing in random needles, pieces of his best cloth, and a few of his own garments.This was so exciting! It must have been fate for him to lose that shop! It was time to talk to his landlord, maybe borrow some garlic from Mom...